The Breonna Taylor Incident Report Is A Slap In The Face to ALL Black Women — WriteSomeShit

Black people, particularly Black women, have had enough. Black women have dealt with enough. And even when we are tired, frustrated, angry, hard-pressed on every side, we stand poised, ready for the fight, ready to take on the bullshit this country continues to serve us. With this disgraceful incident report about the murder of Breonna Taylor…

via The Breonna Taylor Incident Report Is A Slap In The Face to ALL Black Women — WriteSomeShit

That is just outrageous!

Everyone has been screeching about George Floyd, but why did Breonna Taylor not receive the same outpouring of support, solidarity and ferocious protesting? Why was Breonna relegated to obscurity outside of Louisville Kentucky? Thankfully, Louisville has not forgotten Breonna Taylor, but the rest of this cesspool of a shithole country has. I for one, refuse to allow the murder of Breonna Taylor to be placed on the back burner, forgotten and some more shit!

Breonna, once again, was an EMT. This woman had devoted her life to helping people. She put her life on the line to haul COVID-19 patients to the hospital. She was studying to become a nurse; she was that intent on doing what she could for sick people and for that, she gets shot 8 times and then those who shot her, lied about how they entered her home and they also lied about her injuries. They said they did not break into her home when they did because they entered via a ‘no knock warrant’ and with a battering ram, entered Breonna’s apartment and the ‘officers’ were in plain clothes. She was shot 8 times and so we damn well know that she had injuries because she’s dead from being shot by the kops! And no one questioned this piece of shit incident report? No one called anyone out on it? Breonna Taylor’s mother had to go on ‘Good Morning America’ to try and get some sort of justice for her daughter.

What is seriously getting my goat up is the fact that those goons in blue uniforms who murdered Breonna Taylor, went into the wrong apartment and shot an innocent Black woman to death for no reason. The person they were after HAD ALREADY BEEN TAKEN INTO CUSTODY. Yeah! Let that seep in! Wrap your head around that! Those goons had no business busting down Breonna’s door in the first damn place because the suspect they were after was ALREADY IN CUSTODY! THE ‘NO KNOCK WARRANT’ was for someone who lived in the same building, not the same apartment and who knows if that isn’t a lie!

Breonna’s boyfriend was arrested for attempted murder of the goons that broke down the door and shot his girlfriend to death while those goons are still walking the streets, free as a goddamn bird and they had just murdered an innocent BLACK WOMAN. What fucking sense does that make? Those goons in blue only released Breonna’s boyfriend from jail after public outcry or he would still be behind bars! AGAIN, what fucking kind of sense does this shit make? How do you shoot an innocent Black woman and then arrest her boyfriend for shooting back at your ass when you break down their door, never acknowledge that you are kops and are not in uniform and then lie on an incident report that the woman was never INJURED and you didn’t BREAK DOWN HER DOOR? This is the shit that we are expected to put up with! WHAT.THE.HELL.

I don’t give a damn if I am repeating myself from my previous post about Breonna Taylor, you’re damn well going to read it again because Breonna Taylor’s life mattered. “BLACK WOMEN MATTER!” I am getting real fed up with even Black women caping for Black men, but won’t say a word when the same shit goes down against Black women. We are no less than Black men.

Yes, what happened to George Floyd was horrific and the entire country went the fuck off over it, but why did Breonna’s murder not receive the same? What? Because there was no cellphone footage of Breonna getting shot 8 times by the kops? That should make no difference. An innocent Black woman was murdered in her home while in her own bed and yet we kicked up more of a fuss about a Black male immigrant from St. Lucia getting murdered in his home while eating ice cream because I am pretty sure that everyone remembers Botham Shem Jean.

But for some strange reason, when shit happens to Black women, no one gets into an uproar. No one goes the fuck off and maintains that rage. Why is that? Why Black women? Why Black men?

Speaking as a Black woman, I can honestly say, Black women don’t like other Black women; that is a fact. Even though we share the same troubles, the same heartaches, the same pain, the same shit aimed at us by the whites, we still don’t like each other.

And Black men, for the most part, take Black women for granted. They know that we are always going to be there when they get fucked up; they know that they can take that shit for granted, but when we get fucked up, Black men simply, for the most part, ignore the shit. Well you motherfuckers had better hope that we don’t start doing to you, what you do to us because then your ass is grass! And you’d better figure that shit out!

This is why I despair OF us because we will never get our shit together and come together like we need to and the white motherfuckers see this shit! They know our MO. And that is why they know that they can get away with the shit they do to us; because we are divided. Divided people are a conquered people; you mean, you didn’t know that? Wake the fuck up and recognize! We don’t have a lot of fucking time to get our shit together, Black folks!

From the original article:

“THIS REPORT WAS A SLAP IN THE FACE TO ALL BLACK WOMEN! This report was another way of killing the legacy of Breonna Taylor over and over again. Every single day we fight and wait for justice. But justice too long delayed is often justice denied. Because every day, this city reminds Black women that our lives do not matter. Our lives matter so little, the police can kill us, lie on an incident report, and put that bullshit incident report out in the media without batting an eye. There is absolutely no fucking accountability! No one is in a position of authority and leadership in that department and beyond, and that is why we are where we are today with cowboy cops running into people’s homes and killing them.”

This was indeed, a slap in the face, one among many and if we continue to take this shit, we will continue to get slapped in the face.

STOP FUCKING WITH US BECAUSE WHEN WE FUCK BACK, IT WILL NOT BE PRETTY AND I DONT USE VASELINE!

WE HAVE UPHELD OUR END OF THE BARGAIN! WE HAVE DONE OUR PART, AND BLACK WOMEN ARE TIRED!

I WILL WATCH THIS WHOLE DAMN CITY BURN TO THE GROUND AND SMILE AS I ROAST MARSHMALLOWS IN FRONT OF CITY HALL!

If I had my way, this shithole would be burning from one end to the other WITHOUT LET UP! What the fuck do we have to lose? Think about what you ‘own’ and then figure the shit out! You fucking got NOTHING to lose!

Through Red And Angry Eyes!

 

When I first started blogging,
I was gentle as a lamb.
But today, my rants and ravings
couldn’t compete in a poetry slam.

Oh I come out smoking hot,
full of rage and indignation
at a society of clueless cretins
who compound my own frustration.

When I said my pen was drained,
just a few short years ago,
I should have thrown in the towel,
but what kept me going was my ego.

I was such an attention seeker
who was so pleased with what I wrote,
I quite forgot to temper my anger
and on my own bile, I almost choke.

I’ve written many a poem
and what I once thought of as prose,
but now I foam at the mouth
and no poem, can I compose.

Through red and angry eyes,
I view the world with a vengeful gaze.
I no longer believe in humanity
or think there is hope for better days.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2018 Shelby I. Courtland

I remember when I first started blogging, I was inspired and had not yet been tainted by all of the things that have now made me rage and lash out at the world. I am filled with such a white hot blazing anger that some times, I quite fear that I shall go mad. I used to pen poems about the homeless and oh how sincere I was. That is why I titled this blog, “Bringing Social Issues To The Forefront,” because I wanted to highlight the societal ills that affected so many people. I wanted to try and shed a spotlight on those who are forgotten, overlooked and ignored. I wanted to shed a light on human suffering, but by doing so, I suffered for it. Those of us who are truly caring, apparently, can only take but so much before it starts tearing away at our very soul. I am becoming something I once abhorred; a cold, callous, hateful and vengeful person who has lost her way.

I cannot find in me the poetry that once used to flow so freely from my mind to my fingers. And that is why I don’t post poems anymore. I just don’t have them in me; not the ones that I look back on and read and I can tell that I put deep feeling into them; they are me. What I write now is what I have turned into.

There have been so many people that I have fallen out with who I used to hold in high esteem, but because of what I allowed in, I’ve cussed people out, called them out and have hurt people and that was never who I was, but that is who I am now. We are letting the evil that is in the very air we breathe into our bodies and that evil is building in strength and we are hating each other because we have allowed others to feed us their hate, their callousness, their disregard for human life, their greed, their selfishness and their depravity and we have, some of us that is, swallowed it down and brought it back up. We are consumed with hatred for each other like I’ve never seen before and I am quite guilty of this. Most days I am livid from the time I wake up until the time I close my eyes in sleep and I carry this around with me every single day. I do not like what I have become and if I continue to feed the flames of hatefulness that has consumed so many, I can no longer take the high road. I must admit that I am just like them.

And lastly, I did not even heed the words of my own poem, “Yield Not To Temptation!”

It’s Been Four Years

You were mother’s favorite from the day you were born
and then from her arms, thanks to crack, you were torn.
I was jealous of you since I thought you had it all.
You were so smart and so beautiful; a Cinderella at the ball.

In your band uniform and with your saxophone ready
you marched out on that field amidst loud cheers and confetti.
Voted ‘gold brick’ girl, your sense of humor stole the show.
You were brilliant at everything until to crack, you couldn’t say, “No!”

It shortened your beautiful life and destroyed who you were.
After you became addicted, the rest of your life was just a blur.
You stole and you lied and we did not know what to do.
Your family threw their hands up, we all gave up on you.

Four years you’ve been gone and how the time did fly.
And I never got the chance to say to you, “Goodbye!”
I hear the mournful wail of a saxophone playing.
It would be from you if I could bring you back by praying!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2017 Shelby I. Courtland

I cannot believe that it’s been another year since my sister’s death on May 6, 2013. For those of you who are new to this blog, my sister died from a crack overdose.
She was the most talented and beautiful person I’ve ever known. I sit here, writing this, with tears streaming down my face because my sister had it all except for the ability to give up the crack pipe. I have never known anyone who had her smarts. There was nothing she could not do except get off crack. And I just don’t understand nor can I seem to accept how someone who was as brilliant as she was is dead from crack. Her brain was a computer. I’ve said this before and I say it again, there was no mathematical equation or computation that she couldn’t do as fast as a computer. She never had to open a book; she just knew the answers and even her college roommate was jealous of her because my sister never opened a book and yet aced every exam. Walked out of the classroom a few minutes after entering it with her exam completed. She excelled at music, cooking, math, history, English, art; everything! But crack was her Achilles heel. Beside her, my other sister and myself are kindergarten rejects and I wish I was kidding. She never married, had no children, was the youngest and yet, she is dead!

My sister, I mourn you still!!

The Day Before My Birthday!

The day before my birthday
is a melancholy one.
I sit here contemplating
what I should do for fun.

Would a trip to New York
be just the thing for me?
 Or should I relax in the tub
and go on a shopping spree?

As I reflect on my life,
I wonder what would I miss
if I never saw another day?
 Would I still live like this?

Did I ever touch one single heart
or let someone know I cared?
Was I always just too shallow
since love, I never shared?

What a loveless life I’ve lived.
With no thought for those I hurt.
I just pack and move elsewhere
like some twenty year old flirt.

It’s always been about me.
I’ve never lived for another.
This aimless life, I choose
when faced with love, I burn rubber.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

I don’t know where this came from, I really don’t except for the fact that I always get a little maudlin around my birthday because of the fact that I’m on the ‘wrong’ side of 25 and each year causes me to reflect a little bit deeper and this year, I’ve gone even deeper.

I remember when I was a child, I could not wait for my birthday because we were treated like a princess for the day; a big birthday party with so many friends over and lots and lots of gifts and all my favorite foods including my favorite cake. And now, it’s like, WOAH! What the hell??!! It’s like before I can blink twice, it’s my birthday again and all the gifts and hoopla still don’t make up for the fact that I’m getting older and older and feeling it. Oh well. I’ll get over it. I just wondered if anyone else over 25 experiences anything similar or do you just take it all in stride. I hope not too many are like me who cannot dwell in the present, but must forever look back on the past and compare it to today, most unfavorably.

Sometimes, I Wish I Had A Heart To Break!

Sometimes, I wish I had a heart to break.
I have never known love; I hear it’s about give and take.

Whenever I thought I was in love, it turned out to be just lust.
And if I am to go through life without love, then I must.

Now, I am not saying that I have had no relationships at all.
I am merely saying that when it came time to end, I took no fall.

I did not feel any ache or loss that should have hit me deep.
My doomed lover would look at me as though he expected me to weep.

What a disappointment I must have been for I could not manage one tear.
And each time, I walked away with eyes, not red with tears, but crystal clear.

No, I am not bragging or pretending that this is normal in any way.
But I read so many stories of lovers having parted at the end of the day.

And each took something away with them of a lesson learned,
that even though love was once shared, in the end, they got burned.

Yet through it all; the heartache and the tears, they would do it over again;
 endure the highs and the lows and when it’s over, take it on the chin.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

And no, I am not feeling sorry for myself, I am just wondering at what I have been missing since lovers speak of having gained from the experience of love and loss and how it may be difficult, but in time, they eventually pick themselves up, dust themselves off and get back on that particular horse. I always wonder about something that has never affected or infected me, like love. And please, please do not state that I have just not found the right one and that the right one will fall into my lap when I am least expecting it. I do not wish it anyway. I am not capable of ‘deep and true’ love or I would know it by now. I have no ‘love’ to give. I am far too selfish, apparently. I have other sterling qualities, if I may be so bold as to toot my own horn, but none of us are perfect. *wink*

I Am Searching For Something I Will Never Find

I am searching for something I will never find;
a love so pure and ethereal of some kind.
Lost in a dream world of fantasy and books;
tired of love based on money and looks.

Earthy passion has no place for me.
Too scared I’ll get up with an STD.
Only lust and sex are intertwined
and to believe any different is asinine.

The times we live in are scary as hell.
And then you find yourself alone as well.
The man you think of as only yours
is out driving around in search of whores.

But you say you love him and you need a man.
You need wisdom because he has a plan.
He will use you and he may speak of love
while knowing full well what he’s guilty of.

When he is in your bed, he is thinking of her.
You see, he is a pro and you’re just an amateur.
And you turn to him and you look into his eyes,
not even seeing the telltale signs of lies.

Oh yes, the times we live in are scary indeed.
He is your addiction, on which you feed.
And he is one more reason to lose all trust.
You see, men will be men and they’re all ruled by lust.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

Ladies, be careful out there. Because this is real, as real as it gets. Men are ruled by lust, lust for power, money and sex. Anything else is secondary and that means, you. Just take a look around. What do you see? Who are called, ‘the powerbrokers’? How many times have you heard of ‘The Boy’s Club’? Oh, it’s exclusive, alright and it ‘excludes’ you. You are to only be seen at the proper time and under the proper circumstances. Men tell you what to look like as in how many cosmetic surgery procedures you must undergo to achieve ‘the look’ as established by men. Men tell you what to wear, how to style your hair, even down to the stiletto heels you must wear because men have decided that you must suffer deformities in order to look sexy and you do it. You do everything men tell you to do and quite frankly, I wonder is it really for love or for something else? Search within yourself, you’ll find the answers. And many of you, already know them. Be honest with yourself and about what men want and what they are.

My Father Is Dead And Long Gone!

My father is dead and long gone
and I was never daddy’s little girl.
He just tossed his children away,
leaving us fatherless in a cold and cruel world.

Oh, he was dead long before he died.
And his death was never even felt.
You cannot miss what you did not have,
and we just played the hand we were dealt.

Now, this may sound like I am jaded and angry,
but it happened so many years ago.
And time has a way of dulling the pain.
Through the years, even little children grow.

And so, without further ado,
I’d like to take this opportunity
to thank my dear old departed dad
for refusing to do his fatherly duty.

Despite the fact that he was not a father,
 as far as I am concerned, I turned out okay.
 But still, every child needs a father,
 and not just for today, but every day!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

I hope everyone enjoyed their Father’s Day celebrations. I thought I would post this late seeing as how it is not exactly a ‘feel good’ Father’s Day post. However, some of us did not have REAL fathers or men who actually took being a father, seriously. My dad loved women and drink more than anything in this world and since he did, we were sorely neglected. Every gift he ever bought me was thanks to my mother having had to threaten him over it and every gift he bought me is still somewhere in my old room in the family home. As far as I am concerned, he could have taken them with him to hell.

But be that as it may, have a Happy Father’s Day and to the dads who still have an opportunity to change the way you are parenting if your particular brand of ‘parenting’ is anything like what I have expressed here, I would get on with it if I were you. Time’s a wasting and your children will not thank you for it, as you can see.

Love Yourself, No Matter What!

She looked at the world through a veil of tears.
She felt she’d wasted so many years.
Her enemies hung her out to dry.
They told her, she would never fly.

With broken wings, she fell to the ground
and she never uttered a sound.
She accepted the lies they told.
She bought everything they sold.

She would stop after each false start;
afraid to follow her own heart.
She blamed the shit in her life on fate;
felt she’d waited ‘til it was too late.

Life had surely passed her by.
And she never questioned, “Why?”
But what she failed to understand
is that life can never, ever be planned.

There are pitfalls and highs and lows,
and those you think are friends are foes.
Never settle for second best.
You’ll feel cursed and you’ll feel blessed.

So love yourself, no matter what.
Hold your head up girl and strut!
Turn, “I can’t!” into “Yes, I can!”
And stop listening to the lies of man!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland

©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

 

There is so much goddamn shit going on in my life right now that I had begun to doubt myself and my strength because as much as I rail against the injustices I see perpetrated against the innocent every single day, I felt impotent. I have let myself become jaded, pessimistic and my attitude became that of a defeatist. I wondered what happened to my fire; to my spirit. Had all that makes me ,me, fled? I truly felt so! Have I recovered? No, but I am working on it! I will pick myself up, dust myself off and so long as there is breath in my body, what weapons are at my disposal, I will use them to fight back. I will not surrender to defeat! Never!

To All The Men I’ve Never Loved

To all the men I’ve never loved
and though most of you are dead
when I look back on my life
not much good can be said.

I see your faces in my mind
and I heave a great big sigh
as I recall those looks of love
that I let pass me by.

What of me was there to love?
I was never nice to any of you.
Love, to me was for fools
and each month, the fool was new.

Today, a song reminded me
of all that I have missed
because I was young and I was dumb
and that your love, I simply dissed.

Oh how you chased me, relentlessly
and I kept running away.
Now your bones have turned to dust
when there is much, I’d like to say.

What the young don’t understand
is what I also failed to know
And that things don’t stay the same.
What we reap, so shall we sow.

The lessons I have learned
have come too late for me.
The love I never returned
was just not meant to be.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

Cars And Boats And Gold Don’t Matter!

When I’m gone, I’ll miss the sunrise
that can’t warm the coldest grave.
When I’m gone, I’ll miss the ocean.
I’ll not ride another wave.

When I’m gone, I’ll miss the flowers
that I never smelled anyway.
I just took them all for granted
and now, they bloom while I decay.

When I’m gone, I’ll miss the love
that I never did return.
I was too busy earning money
and your love, yes I did spurn.

When I’m gone, who will miss me?
Will my boss for whom I’ve worked?
And will my children come to see me
after they’ve covered me up with dirt?

Before I am gone, I must realize
what is important and what is not.
It’s time to love and smell the flowers
before they lower me in my plot.

Never think that there’s tomorrow.
for it may never come.
Cars and boats and gold don’t matter
when for you, death beats the drum.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

Every now and then, I try and take time out from posting about all of the horrors that we are besieged with every day; whether it be from genocide, wars, poverty, inhumanity, racism, hate, materialism and I could go on and on. Think of all the people that set out yesterday, heading to their jobs or to school or wherever and think of all the people that you see, staring down at a phone while walking into you or into a pole. Think of the people that lust and never love. Think of all the people that are busily attempting to amass a fortune and yet, have no idea what it is like to sit down and simply breathe and know what it is to love and to be loved. Think of all those people that have dropped dead and they really had no idea what was really important.

There is nothing so important on the screen of a phone because if it is, why just a few decades ago, were we having no problem in not having a phone everywhere we go? Now, it is unthinkable to even walk around the house without knowing where the smartphone is. It is unthinkable for many to stand outside for a few moments and look up at the sky if you don’t live near a park. It is unthinkable for many to remember that there is more to life than expensive cars, boats, big houses and bulging pockets. When we lost sight of this, we lost a lot. And I for one, don’t think we will ever get that back. More’s the pity. But I post this anyway. Maybe, someone can recall a time before smartphones with apps told us how to live, what to eat, where to shop and who to ‘like’.